That Butler!
by Non-microwaveable
Summary: In penny dreadfuls you get stories of fine manor houses-a crime committed-and butlers being the criminals...but this story isn't a penny dreadful; it's free! so who knows? Modern day take on P&P - the bennetts are rich while darcy gets recruited to be a butler of their family.
1. A contract agreed

Mrs Squigella Bennett, a plump woman, and now of a plump pocket, sat behind an ornate desk. She was currently hiring. Twenty-three servants plus a butler to be precise.  
Which led to why Ned was currently sitting across from her, watching her scrutinize his CV through glasses which was studded with several diamonds. Ned did not doubt they were genuine.

"So tell me, Mr. Edward Darcy, why is it you seek employment at this household, and more specifically, as our Butler. I mean, look at this-" Mrs. Bennett peered at his resume "-Graduated from Cambridge with a starred first in Land Economy and achieved 'Outstanding' at the Butler-Valet school."

"It was the hat." Ned replied seriously "Granted, Pemberly was not my first choice for seeking employment-" Mrs. Bennett gave a screamlet of affrontedness. He quickly realized perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. He added "My first choice was as a Porter, for Trinity, Cambridge because they had such distinguished bowler hats."

Mrs. Bennett still looked suspiciously at him. "All for a hat? And I assume you did not get the job in the end?"  
Ned nodded miserably, though to Mrs. Bennett, it only appeared as miniscule adjustments to the incline angle between his neck and head  
"Yes maam, they said that I was too young, and something of in danger from young female undergraduates."

"What! You mean you're a pedophile?" Mrs. Bennett screamlet-ed, and dropped off her Queen's English accent.

"No, no maam…The head porter thought my looks would cause a massive influx of impressionable young ladies into the porter's lodge, to the detriment of both the undergraduate body and the porters themselves."

"Oh. That's perfectly fine then. As a fellow sufferer of the same malady, I sympathize your plight too. Well, let no one say that I'm not an equal-rights employer." Mrs. Bennett smiled slightly and pointed her index finger at Ned. "You're hired."

Ned felt relieved, he was afraid that he might have bungled up another interview. He got up from his chair and solemnly bowed.

"Thank you, Maam. I will not let you down."

Mrs. Bennett nodded. "Oh yes, and also, we shall call you Darcy, are you fine with that?"

Ned nodded, he was expecting that. Butlers never get known by their first names. He heard Mrs. Bennett murmur "how apt…"  
"Is there anything else you would like to inquire, Maam?"  
"Oh yes. I wish to know what about the Pemberly hat that catches your fancy."

Gravely, Ned responded "The tricorne Maam. Unless you wish to reenact Pirates of the Carribean, you never get a legitimate excuse to wear one nowadays."

"Good answer." Mrs Bennett seemed fine with the reply "You may go now. Duty commences next Monday."

Ned practiced the silent-slipaway butler technique, and quietly, Mrs. Bennett was left in her room.


	2. A day in Cambridge

**_Dearest Mr Baines, _**

**_You will be glad to hear that I have finally found employment in a Grand Estate that goes by the name of Pemberly. It consists of 50-acres, a 46-roomed manor house plus a servant's quarter, not to mention a small zoo-like collection of animals, courtesy of the Bennett kids. It sounds like precisely a place in need of some goodly Butler-ing. My pay is good, two weeks of leave per year and I get a tricorne hat, as part of my uniform. _**

**_Yours,_**

**_Ned Darcy_**

**_Dear Ned,_**

**_I don't know what they teach you in Land Economy, but you write like an estate agent trying to sell a haystack to a gullible couple. I was hoping for better after two years at my academy. Butlers are discreet. They do not gloat._**

**_Yours,_**

**_Mr Baines_**

In the following days, Ned had signed a contract, was given several uniform fittings at Ede and Ravenscrofts (tricorne hat included), and was also thoughtfully supplied a map of the estate and manor by the estate manager, a Mr. Cashflow.

On his last day of freedom, Ned donned on a grey Fedora hat and decided a visit to his old Director of Studies was in order. Professor Limpwig had a habit of writing in the _Cambridge Tab_ under the pseudonym of Maggie Hatcher about the success of his past protégés, in hopes of promoting Land Economy and provoking students to change tripos.

Ned walked through the glutted market square, which was full of people brandishing DSLRs. No wonder the city council spent most of its budget repairing the buildings from photo-bleaching. He quickly flitted past them, employing his butler-flexibility skill and triumphantly emerged from Rose Crescent unscathed. From there, it was a short walk to his old college, which was right opposite Heffers. Unfortunately, the front of Trinity was also crowded.

By some unexplained law, around half of these DSLR-wielding enthusiasts would be some sort of breakaway group from the lot in Market Square. They were a lot more aggressive, however, and were energetically haggling the porters for reduced entry fee (though one or two of them will instead be busy chronicling this on their cameras).

"…But my sister will be studying here in October!" Ned heard a voice, a light lilting feminine kind that earth's gravitational pull had less effect on. It floated over the cacophony.

"I'm sorry Miss, no tourists allowed to visit student accommodations. College regulations" Ned recognized the Head Porter's voice even before he saw the Bowler Hat of Authority.

"What if I paid you a hundred quid?" That light lilting voice hedged. Ned tried to slip through the crowd; the Head Porter could be insanely scary when provoked.

"No Miss…It is not done. Porters do not take monetary bribes." There was a pause. "Blueberry cheesecakes are acceptable, however."

The reply stopped Ned in the middle of his Butler-flexibility technique. It probably left him looking like an acrobat suddenly dipped in liquid nitrogen. That woman, whoever it was, had just successfully _bribed _the Head Porter.

That woman turned out to be a very pretty blonde, hair all curly and yellow like a suntanned daffodil. She wore glasses, but that didn't conceal her sparkling green eyes as much as frame them, like a fine painting. Currently, she was unleashing a devastating smile at the Head Porter.

"Oh thank you! I always knew the Porters of St John's were always better than Trinitarian ones. Like they always say, 'I'd rather be at St John's than Oxford?' Right?"

Uh oh, Darcy noticed the Head Porter's slightly indulgent smile becoming downright dangerous. Silly woman, didn't she realize of the rivalry between the two colleges? And to mistaken one for another…that was practically a death sentence.

Deciding to honour the age-old tradition of men rescuing beautiful damsels in danger, Ned slipped across, and gathered an armful of squirming Woman.

"There you are, Sister dear!" He put on a jolly tone, "You ran away without taking your medication! You know that people often think you a lunatic without those frog pills"

With alarming speed, Ned whisked her away, the head porter shouting "Hey! Edward Darcy! Come back here, you young scamp!" amidst the whirlwind of DSLRs frenetically capturing the moment, for fifteen likes on facebook.

St John's college wasn't too far away, so Ned deposited her there.

"St John's College" He pointed at the green and yellow sign tacked onto the fence. The woman, instead of hurling insults about frog pills that Ned was half-expecting to dodge, beamed up at him. He felt his insides slightly liquefying. He mentally willed his Butler training to kick in so that his face remained impassive.

"Thank you! You know, saving my neck and all." The woman made a slicing motion across her neck. "That was some quick thinking there. I'm really here to help my sister out though. You see, she is rather…particular about rooms. Mum wants the new butler to do it, but he doesn't start till tomorrow and I don't really want a stranger to sort it out for her."

"Let's see whether I can help you out?" Ned asked, eager to spend more time with her. "I used to study here myself. Trinity, I'm afraid."

"Aha! That explains why that Porter guy knew your name!"

"Yes. I also applied to be a Porter with them."

"Man, if you were one, I bet there'll be even more tourists flocking over to your college!"

"It has been somewhat hinted at me during the interview. In anycase, I am going to be a butler."

"Woo. You! A Butler?" The woman laughed, sun glinting off the frames of her glasses. "Well, I think you'll turn out to be a spiffing one." She said, after lowering her glasses and mock-surveyed him like a prize horse.

"Rescuing silly maidens. Tick. Being perpetually helpful. Tick. Able to quickly mask your true personality. Tick. But please, no need to do the latter around me."

Ned flashed her a smile, exactly the way Mr Baines had instructed them not to do so. Pooh, Mr Baines! He needn't be a butler till 8 am next morning.

"Sorry Miss. Butler training and all."

"Oh, stop that! I'm April. April Bennett."

April Bennett held out her hand. Ned took it, while the inner cogwheels of his mind turned, raising alarm.

"Would you happen to be related, by any chance, to a Mrs. Squigella Bennett?"

April was looking oddly at him. "Yes, I think I might've spent eight and a half months in her womb."

Ned looked at her despairingly. What would Mr Baines say? Hitting on your future employer's daughter was bad form. It was almost like gardeners hitting on the bonsai trees they look after.

"Edward?" April prompted, expecting a response. "Ned" he corrected her. He paused. "No, no. Darcy."

"Oooh! Darcy sounds so romantic! Like Mr. Darcy, in Mum's favourite book!"

"Well" Ned replied grimly. "You mustn't romanticize my name. I'm going to be your butler."

**A/N: Hi there all of you who have got this far! It's my first time writing a fan fiction, although I've been reading forever. I hope you'll have as much fun reading it, as I have writing it. Now, some things of note - **

**Cambridge Tab: An actual, student-run tabloid newspaper. It is notorious for several articles, including a spoof about Nick Griffin (BNP head) getting kicked out.**

**Porter: A bit like an all-jobs security man. He doesn't handle student's baggages at the start of term, though. He can be a student's close confidante, or a student's bane. Usually male, and sport bowler hats, in some colleges.**

**Trinity vs John's: The University of Cambridge is divided into 30-something colleges. A college is a bit like a dorm where you spend your student life in. Out of the lot, Trinity and John's is probably the most famous, and the most loaded. They also happen to have somewhat of a rivalry, which I will be exploiting. Which leads to the banter 'I'd rather be at oxford than st. john's', which, April gets wrong. The two colleges are situated right next to each other.**

**Oxford vs Cambridge: In the US you get Ivy league rivalry. In the UK you get Oxbridge rivalry. Cantabs often refer to Oxford as 'The Other Place', whilst Oxford has a more unflattering name for Cambridge (some variant of Scum-bag Cambridge).**

**Lastly, thank you for all of those who have dropped a review! Suggestions welcomed! You guys are awesome possums. :) **


	3. A meeting with the brood

**_Dear Mr Baines,_**

**_I am sorry that you have deemed me an opportunistic estate-agent. On the other hand, at least you did not compare me to a tax man. That is what a Land Economist come to fear the most. _**

**_I find myself somewhat in need of wise words. What happens when the family you butler comes with an exceedingly charming daughter?_**

**_Yours,_**

**_Ned Darcy_**

**_Dear Ned,_**

**_Do not in any case run off with the young lady in question. Only common footmen do so. Think of her as drying paint and practice meditation if you find yourself hyperventilating. Your father, a most excellent pupil of mine, was an extraordinary success at the House of Stirling. You are entirely legitimate for one._**

**_Mr Baines_**

Ned was a smart man. Not wanting Mrs Bennett to fire him before he even started work, he spent the rest of the day behaving in full butler mode. He efficiently engaged the porter in handing over the keys to what would be May Bennett's new accommodation (a double set, ensuite, plus kitchen) on top of the spiral staircase in the beautiful old building colloquially known as 'the cake'. His undergrad room was nowhere near as exciting, it being more akin to a deluxe coffin-box. April got to work with a packet of post-its, tacking them on various surfaces to tell the servants where to place May's belongings. She was thoughtfully quiet after Ned's proclamation, but during the car ride back to Pemberly (Ned saw little point not to accompany her home) April started a quiet chatter about the family in general. Ned nodded and rarely replied.

Ned gleaned that April was the oldest of five children. They were all named after the months of the year. Only the youngest was a boy and he has a twin sister. They bought Pemberly from an impoverished noble after their father made a fortune from buying Apple shares and they sky-rocketed.

Later that evening, he quietly snacked on a sandwich in one of the kitchens in the servants quarters before heading up to his room. Some long dead architect had kindly gifted the Butler's room with a spacious floor – way larger than his rooms in Trinity or the Butler-Valet School – and two interesting nooks. There was even a moth-eaten tiger skin rug covering the floor in front of the blocked up fireplace and there was an odd assortment of chairs that had once graced the living rooms in the main house clustered round it.

Ned undressed and put on comfortable old clothes before grabbing a sturdy sized tome from his small library. Sleep never came readily to him, except in lectures, hence _'A History of Fish' _rest lying in his laps_. _He had been reading this book for eight years.

And three quarters of a page later, the printed diagram of a toothless moray kissed his mouth to lands locked behind slumber.

At 6.55 am, something screeched.

During the night, a small cat belonging to one of the Bennetts had crept into his bed and shot up to the clanging for the alarm. It sunk its claws into his arm, making him yell. The thing stretched and blinked innocently at him.

"Wretched kitty." He muttered while stretching. The room was renovated a few years ago to include an ensuite and so ensuring a total privacy for the Pemberly butler. Ned performed his morning ablutions in relative peace (the cat had gone back to sleep) and donned on his new uniform. His tricorne hat setted at a jaunty angle, Ned proceeded to scoop up the encroaching cat and put it in the main manor.

Already, the kitchens were alive with smells of bread being baked and breakfast fried. The Bennetts liked their breakfast at eight. Ned nodded at the Mrs Marple, the head cook, who waved a friendly ladle at him.

"Mornin' Mr Darcy! Would ya' like a cup of tea before startin' ya' duties?" She bellowed across. What is it about cooks always being red and lungs like a bellow?

"Yes, that would be amazing Mrs Marple." A hot cup of tea was given to him and he was forced to set the cat on the table. It was still asleep.

"I know ya' be new here. If ya' any problems, ya' can come runnin' to me, kay?" Mrs Marple said kindly. Unlike him, she was one of the few retainers that came with the estate. Ned wasn't about to run to anyone however, but he nodded politely at her kind offer.

"Now off ya' go. I've been hearin' from Betsy that Mr Bennett has taken a shine to the Oblong Office. "

There were three rooms in the manor named offices: the Oblong, the Octagon and the Oblique. Ned supposed the previous owner was a fan of the white house, but couldn't remember that the office was Oval.

Ned padded silently through the parquet hallways and set the cat onto the floor. He gently knocked the door.

"Come in!" A deep voice beckoned him. Mr Daniel Bennett appeared to be the opposite of Mrs Bennett. Though both wore glasses, that was pretty much where the similarities ended. He was thin, dark haired and had kind green eyes that blinked owlishly at Ned. In fact, he looked so much of an owl that Ned was half-expecting a soft "hoot" when Mr Bennett next spoke.

"You're not Perkins, are you?"

That wasn't a hoot.

It was English (non-bbc). Without waiting Mr Bennett went on "Never mind. I'm trying to think of a new name for my company. How do you think Hackaway-Pemberly sound?"

Ned considered. "A nod towards Berkshire Hathaway by any chance sir?"

Mr Bennett nodded, delighted. "What a bright lad you are!" he complimented and launched into a lengthy explanation, "I thought, hey! My name is Bennett, and his name is Buffett, there's fifty percent similarity already and I will be running a very successful holding company."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

"I say, why don't I hire you? You'll make a brilliant assistant. More so than that absent Perkins."

Ah, a case of mistaken identity. One shouldn't let such a scenario lie alone because they tend to morph into mystery plots of penny dreadful. Ned felt the importance of a clear explanation.

"I'm afraid I'm already under your employ sir. Technically your wife's. I am the new butler, Darcy."

Mr Bennett's owlish green eyes drooped slightly.

"Oh, that is rather unfortunate. I guess I shall make do with Perkins."

When Mr Bennett's eyes drooped, it made him look more so ever like an owl, trapped in some dire owlish tragedy – perhaps the extinction of its species.

"If you want, sir, I shall pop by and converse with you?" Ned asked, hesitatingly. Was a butler supposed to also chit-chat with his employers if it made them happy?

It seemed so. Mr Bennett's countenance immediately brightened.

"By all means! It gets so lonely here. No one sensible to chat to, only cows and sheep around here."

Ned had to refrain from asking whether the cows and sheep included their humanoid manifestations as well. Mr Bennett ignored Ned's mental debate and blithely carried on,

"Now, do you know much about the stock markets? Are you a fundamentalist or a stats guy? I prefer fundamentalism, but you can't deny candlestick graphs are rather handy…"

It was rather easy to mechanically nod every so often at Mr Bennett's chatter. He didn't seem to notice he was doing most of the talking and Ned, most of the listening.

"…And I knew that was how Apple was going to soar. And wham! 600% increase on half a million pounds." Mr Bennett concluded triumphantly before blinking. "I'd say, what's the time now Darcy."

Ned glanced down at his casio watch. "It is five to eight, sir. May I make a suggestion to make a move to the breakfast room?"

"An excellent suggestion. A butler is so useful! I didn't know why Squigella wanted to hire one at first. I do now, though. I suppose the twenty three other servants would come in handy as well."

Judging from the vast size of the manor, twenty three might even be under-staffing.

The breakfast room was already filled with the various bennetts. Only the seat at the head of the table was empty. Mr Bennett slipped himself in and the set was complete.

"Morning Darcy!" Squigella greeted him warmly. "I'd like you to meet the rest of my family. Mr Bennett." Mr Bennett smiled at Ned. "And my children. April, May, June, July and August."

Darcy carefully avoided eye contact with April. He smiled slightly all of them. May was a rather cute girl with dark curls and green eyes. She was busy shoveling eggs down her mouth and paid no attention to him. June, on the other hand, smiled shyly back at him, a younger version of May. The twins July and August was currently engaged in some twinly rivalry but they both gave him a 'hi Darcy' before continuing about the best way to slay dragons.

"Would you like to join us Darcy?" Mr Bennett kindly asked.

"No! Dad! He's our butler!" That was from May, who had finally looked up from her eggs, her green eyes narrowed at him.

"May! Don't be rude. We don't live in the nineteenth century any more you know." That was April. She gave Ned a slow wink, which Ned couldn't respond to.

"I have eaten already, sir" Ned thanked Mr Bennett. However, he couldn't resist and added "I also thank Miss May for rightly reminding everyone of a proper etiquette in a country house."

"My! May, since when were you interested in propriety?" Squigella Bennett butted in. She seemed to be more sharp minded than she let on (today she sported hot pink glasses, perhaps purloined from July).

"No, I just didn't want him to fail at butlering that's all." May replied coolly. "He seems…very intent about carrying his duty seriously."

It seemed every Bennett was not fooled by this. Ned heard August whispering to July "I think May is a bad liar."

Ned noted May reddened at this. Why was this girl so set against him when she nary had even at a squint at him? Maybe he had a left over biscuit crumb stuck to his mouth. No wait, he hadn't anything apart from tea this morning.

"Well, I'm sorry for my daughter's prejudice." Mr Bennett apologized. Good hearted man, that. Mr Bennett mustered some steel behind his kindly green eyes and quelled his brood. Realising their father was in a rare mood today, not even that rude May-girl utter a retort.

And that was that.

**A/N: Next chapter, we will get to hear the inner cogwheels of the not-so-sunny May.**

**Thank you all of those who kindly reviewed! :) May you be granted an extra hour of free time each day (slotted into the 4th dimension).**


	4. A look into a May Storm

**_A day earlier_**

May was Adjusting. She had just returned from her gap year in South East Asia. She was newly tanned and felt a bit sad that it wouldn't last long in this weather. She learnt how to converse a bit of Thai and to haggle like no tomorrow, worked in an orangutan conservatory in Brunei and even had four different boyfriends.

Not a bad year, she supposed.

"And I got an offer from Cambridge!" she yelled gleefully to no one in particular. She looked around; there was one of the new maids surreptitiously removing April's cat, Cheshire, from the expensive-looking sofa.

The new maid did not look impressed at her outburst. She looked more interested in the mark Cheshire made on said sofa and was busy polishing it up with an application of Mr Stain-Bane wax.

May sighed. She wished that April was here, but that ever-efficient sister had gotten up ridiculously early that morning and texted her that she was checking May's room in Cambridge. There was still plenty of time left till term started! April was somewhat possessive of May, even more so than mum.

Mum: April had skyped her during May's ascent up Mt. Kinabalu that after Dad cashed in the shares, Mum had declared it was her dearest wish to be an aristocrat. Since it was unlikely that Dad was going to achieve a knighthood any time soon, let alone an en-noblement, she had to content herself with 50 acres of land and a monstrously sized house. May idly wondered whether they could fit St. John's in the ball room. Probably not, definitely Peterhouse though. That was the smallest college in Cambridge.

May had to admit it did look grand. The previous owner of the house was a marquee? No, no, a marquis? Or was it an earl? Anyhow, it was someone who had more long words behind his name than digits in his bank account.

Pemberly was now the Bennett's. The whole lot. If Mum had bought the place a few years earlier, May would've been amazed with this new playground offered to her. One can play hide and seek so much better than in a seven-bedroomed cottage. It was the twins' turn at having fun- no doubt they'll be waiting to ambush some hapless servants around here.

And then there was June. Little June was always the most queer of the lot. Thirteen, but May felt June was older than May's twenty. May didn't feel old for her age, which was partly why she gap-yeared to grow up. She swore she grew half an inch as well. June might be happy to see her, May decided. She fished a map of the estate out (helpfully provided by a Mr. Cashflow) and studied her whereabouts. Her room was marked in bright orange whilst June's was a floor up from her, in the east wing near the nursery. She read the Wikipedia synopsis on Jane Eyre about the nursery being the natural haunting ground for children. Mum probably threw herself into the whole 19th century addiction and probably got the lot governesses as well.

That maid had finally succeeded in removing the stain. It was only then she saw the poor woman sporting the some Victorian maid garb, she too seemed to be a target for mum to foist her period fanaticism upon.

"Your name?" May asked cheerfully. She learnt that asking things in a cheerful manner worked wonders on people. The maid smiled. There.

"Betsy, Miss May." Betsy even bobbed a curtsy.

"Good morning, Betsy! I was wondering how to get to June's room?"

"East wing Miss May. Would you like me to show you the way?" Betsy asked, while tidying away the Mr. Stain-Bane bottle.

"That'll be awesome possum! Lead on!" May cried. It was a straight walk to June's room from where they were at. "…and just take the furthermost staircase, miss."

May climbed up the flight of stairs and thanked Betsy, who disappeared moments later. Somehow, all the servants in this manor ghosted about so efficiently, which was a marked contrast to the Mrs Squilch her Mum employed at the old cottage. She'll have to ask Betsy how to move ninja-like sometime before heading to Cambridge.

Adopting the special type of barbarism one reserves for siblings, May barged in to the room.

"May!" June cried. June was still in her pajamas and was looking quite sorrowful. She was holding a small pot in her hands that sported an ugly green head.

May plucked the pot and placed it on the bedside table and gave June a bear hug, but to her surprise she heard June snuffling. Was she suffocating her? May drew back and bent down to face June. June was crying, half dried tear tracks on her face.

"What happened June?"

"Fluffy is dying." June sniffled and pointed at the green lump in the pot.

"Fluffy?"

"My pet cactus." June clarified "It's a sand dollar. I got it for my birthday when you were gap yearing." She sniffled some more.

"Oh Junelet." May sighed and tousled June's black curls "It's just a cactus. I'll buy a new one for you on Ebay, OK? Now, I've got you something exciting!"

May pulled a small wrapped gift from her cloth bag. "Open it" She urged.

June wiped the tears from her face and tore open the wrapper. It was a wooden frog with a hole drilled through its side allowing a wooden stick to be slotted through. May was quite proud of the gift.

"Uh, thanks May" June responded politely. She wasn't that enthused. "Go on, it croaks! Look!" May pulled out the stick and stroked it across the frog's back.

_Groattt Groattt_

"It sounds like it's saying goat" June cocked her head.

"Of course! It's telling you to stop being a goat and start being happy!" May exclaimed. "I'll give my gifts to the twins now."

"It's best you do that." June agreed. She was back to staring at Fluffy.

May headed off to hunt for the twins, to no avail. Later she found out them planting a mole in her bed to see whether the poor critter would dig an interstellar tunnel to China. By the time she evicted the mole from the site of vandalism (along with the twins) she was in no cheer to bestow gifts on them.

She spent the rest time prowling through various internet memes in an attempt to cheer up. The abundance of cat-related ones did not impress her. However, after the 87th picture, she started to giggle, and became annoyed at herself for doing so.

It was in this volatile mood that April found her.

"Mayaaaaa!" April laughed and crashed onto May's bed.

"Guess what! Today I went to the wrong college and was going to get slayed and out of nowhere this totally handsome guy came out and rescued me! He has the most amazing grey eyes. Ahhhhh! clear and charcoal ringed, with a hint of dying ember near the centre…"

April sighed dreamily.

"Woah! April aren't you still with that Horace guy?" May laughed and gave her sister a hug. May only tolerated Horace. She didn't like the idea of a total stranger secreting away her sister's heart. April never waxed eloquent on Horace's eyes. April is her best friend, and no man, no matter how amazing their eyes are, should get in between them.

"Howard, dear. Yea, still with him, but that doesn't stop a girl from dreaming…" April gave another sigh before her face lost its concussed look. "You don't need to worry though. Edward Darcy is totally off limits. He's made it so himself."

"What? Why? From the way you talked just now, I thought he was hitting on you, badly."

"Oh he was. Until he realized that he's our new butler."

"What!" May yelled. "Our butler was hitting on you? And then stopped hitting on you? like a sufferer of a most unusual schizophrenia case?"

"Calm down May! You haven't met the poor guy yet and you're already passing judgment on him! I think he's just afraid of losing his job before he even started." April said seriously. April was the loveliest person in the world; she'll let kittens deface expensive-looking sofas if she thought doing so will let said kitten to grow into a stronger specimen.

"I don't think I like this Darcy guy much. He sounds like that stuffy character out of Mum's favorite book." May muttered.

"Well, I'm sure you don't need to like him. You won't even need to see him for most of the year, being away in uni and all." April assured her.

"Whatever. I'm tired – there were so many forms to go through that I need to send off before going up to college." May knew she was being stroppy, but she felt there was some jet-lag justification behind her behavior.

April looked sad. She hadn't got to the frog pills part of the story yet and that was the best bit of the action.

"Night May. Love you." She kissed May on the forehead and switched off the light in her room before padding off, her footsteps softly pitter-pattering down the hall way.

**A/N: I'll be going back to uni saturday night but will be posting ch5 up tomorrow. 14 hour flight and 3 hours of coach ride :/ There will be a slight break while I settle in. Meanwhile a virtual cookie to reviews! :)**


	5. A mole stuck in a hole

**_Dear Mr. Baines,_**

**_What is the exact stance of a Butler with regards to unwanted family pets? Bear in mind we do not drown kittens in burlap sacks in the twenty-first century. _**

**_So far I have acquired five giant snails, one quail, a pair of hydrophobic turtles and one mole. I fear a land-loving lobster will be my next acquisition. _**

**_Yours,_**

**_Ned Darcy_**

**_Dear Ned,_**

**_Since more than half of your acquisitions are aquatic, drowning is extremely unlike. If you have retained tastes of sophistication from your Cambridge days, you may bisque the lobster, un-egg the quail, steak the snails and soup the turtles. _**

**_I am not sure how to make a delicacy out of moles. I have heard mole-skin notebooks are most fashionable however. _**

**_Yours,_**

**_Mr. Baines_**

Pemberly had been running like clockwork for over three hundred years. The addition of twenty three servants and a green butler did little to disrupt the humdrum of daily tasks that took place. Granted, there had been a small hiccup in 1902 when electricity was introduced (the maids thought there were light sprites haunting the corridors and wouldn't wake the misters and mistresses up on time in the winter) and another in 2000 (the only case in the country where the electronised inventory succumbed to the millennium bug).

The new valet, Ben, was cleaning up Mr Bennett's shoes. Mr Bennett only had five pairs, three of which were trainers. One pair was a poor excuse of a flip-flop. The last pair was an unworn duo of dance shoes. Clearly, he a lighter load than his 19th century counterpart.

"Mr. Darcy, is this the correct application of shoe polish sir?" Ben held up a disintegrating flip-flop up for inspection. A shiny black layer was liberally applied to the sole of the footwear.

Ned, who had been checking a handheld stored with an electronised inventory of socks looked up. "Ben," Ned sighed, "You only need to shoe shine the leather varieties. Have you never polished a shoe before?"

"No sir." Ben at least had the grace to look slightly ashamed.

"Where did you graduate from again?"

"The University of the Arts, London, sir." Ben mumbled. Ah. Evidently the poor boy had been expecting a valet would be somewhat of an exalted fashion consultant to a singularly rich man. He should have sat in with a class with Mr Baines.

"Well, why don't you go and help Betsy and the rest of the maids with cleaning the silver then?" Ned asked Ben, not unkindly, "I am sure your extra man power would come in very handy."

Ben brightened up slightly. Cleaning silver? Isn't that like washing dishes? Ben was right at home with that.

Ned put the handheld down and wiped off the polish from the flip-flop. Apart from the shoe-cleaning, Ben only had to select outfits for Mr Bennett (a sweater colour and matching socks). Mr Bennett did not like anyone else near his neck with a shaver, automatic or manual. As that was the case, the valet's duties were no doubt less onerous than the rest of the staff. Perhaps he could permanently allocate Ben to become the maids' handyman.

Ok, back to itemizing socks. Ned was amazed at how many odd ones out there were. Perhaps rounding them all up and keeping them for Christmas stockings might be a good solution. Hmm…

"Darrrrrrcyyyyy!" two voices yelled out his name excitedly, cutting through sockish ruminations. Ah. The twins. Two faces, one surrounded by a halo of yellow and the other, a halo of midnight suddenly loomed very close to him. Ned leaned back slightly (another Butler evasion technique) to observe the pair.

"It is I," Ned nodded slightly, maintaining a poker face.

"We need a favour." July batted her eyelashes at him while August nodded vigorously, "July dropped Digglet into a very deep hole and now Digglet is stuck!

"We've asked April but she's currently wringing a handkerchief over the hole's edge. She's useless."

Ned tried hard not to blink.

"Digglet?" Ned mildly inquire.

"Yea! Our pet mole. Daddy got it for us last year for our 10th birthday." July said impatiently. She started pulling on Ned's tailcoat, "Please Darcy, poor Digglet might be dying!"

"Lead the way." Ned once again set down his handheld and followed the two running twins in long strides. They led him out to the small cultivated patch of garden at the back of the manor where the perfectly manicured lawn hosted a sight of chaos.

At this time, a small party of maids had assembled themselves around the brim of the hole. Because they were all bedecked in black with white aprons and mobcaps, the flock looked like the chorus in a greek tragedy. April herself looked like the part of a tragic heroine. Her sweet face was wreathed in concern and her eyes were flat behind her glasses. In her hands, a handkerchief lay scrunched and much abused. She noticed his party's approach and looked up, her eyes gazing searchingly at him.

"Oh Mr. Darcy!" She cried.

The twins prodded him, reminding their expectations of him playing the part of a hero. Solemnly, he placed his tricorne hat in August's hands and took off his tail coat and handed it to July. He walked towards the hole, which was actually quite wide.

Unexpectedly Ned nearly lost his balance. He teetered precariously on the edge of the hole for several seconds (causing several of the maids to scream ominously) before Mr. Baine's Butler Balance kicked in and saved his face from an untimely uglification. What on earth?! Ned never lost his balance, not even in an inebriated state (he could still walk in a straight line).

Looking down, Ned could see the culprit. A small hand, of an apocalyptic-like pallor had seeked purchase of something solid and found his foot. It grabbed on with the tenacity of a tentacle in a deathly rictus.

For a moment, the silly part of his mind wondered whether he should stamp on it. His good senses kicked in and motioned his body to squat down and hoist the hand up.

"Ouch!" A rang from the hole, and the slightest echo could be heard. Surely, that wasn't? –

But it was.

The rude May-girl.

Somehow Ned managed to hoist a very wet and muddy May out of the hole. As soon as she was on dry ground, a mole, no doubt Diglet, came loose from the crook of her left arm and tried to curl in between Ned's feet.

"May! Are you alright?" April ran over and motioned for one of the Greek Chorus to hand her a towel. Within moments, the snowy fluffy material was marred forever a gloomy grey.

May gave an ungirlish grunt while April delicately patted the handkerchief on May's grubby face "I was going to warn you that the hole is wet because the twins stole Hanke the gardener's hose in order to deepen the hole."

"What did they bloody do that for?" May growled, glaring optical daggers at not only at the twins, but at Ned as well, to his great bemusement. Why is the chit so unpleasant to him?

"If earth was really round, like what they say in our science textbooks, we should be able to dig a tunnel and reach China." July offered, her expression very scientific and passionate. Ned was suddenly reminded of a friend, Bingles, who would munch through _Nature _like a gossip rag and suddenly become a wobbling jelly of excitement when rocks were mentioned.

"We've tried drilling a hole through an apple as well!" August chipped in, reminding Ned to focus on the two trouble makers, "It worked so we also formed a hypothesis for this as well. Mr Kelvin taught us how to write hypothesizes the other day about why apples turn brown in the air."

"So we chose this place to dig." July continued "The ground was softer because of Hanke and his garden shed was also nearby. From there we got shovels and a saw to start our project."

The shovels were at least four feet long whilst the duo were scarcely over four feet five. Ignoring the raised eyebrows of their spectators they rolled on, enjoying the undiluted attention projected at them.

"The shovels were hard to use, but the saw was way easier. We actually dug quite deep until the cable ran taut. That was when I had the brainchild of using a high powered hose! You know, rivers shaping the land. Geography."

"And how did Diglet become involved?" May interjected. "Oh wait, you were planning to employ it as your eco-friendly, organic drill right? And it would've worked if I didn't stupidly jump in and plucked it out." She finished in a sarcastic tone.

Ned swore he heard April mutter that yes, May was stupid.

Meanwhile, August cocked his August head and nodded "Diglet has claws you know. He's a born, natural digger. So yes, we relied on Diglet to dig us to China. We just forgot the hole was still filled with water from the hose but we already dropped him in already. Moles can't swim."

"We can adjust the experiment accordingly and borrow a pump to make the hole dry before tossing Diglet in again!" July offered.

"NO!" three unanimous replies rang out and was quickly joined by the greek chorus, relieved at last to play a role in this mini comedy-of-errors.

April quickly approached them and lowered herself to their eye level.

"July and August dear, you could've asked me if you wanted to commence an excavation of our back lawn you know. I could've told you though the geology in Pemberly is chalk, you'll have pass through a bunch of very hard rock before you get to China. Also, if you wanted to dig in the shortest straight line, you'll end up in Russia instead. After all, I am a doctoral candidate for geology.

"I will be confiscating Diglet, to protect him from becoming a future eco-drill again, okay?"

The twins looked outraged, but May's quelling glare extracted promises of no repeats of today's event.

"Good." April nodded, satisfied.

Suddenly, a piercing shriek ripped through the air, heralding the continuation of this saga. Mrs Bennett had entered the scene, her mouth formed an oval shape that was ringed in flaming pink.

She dropped her scarlet moleskine notebook in order to clasp hands around her face like in the famous painting.

"What! On Earth! Is Going On!" Each syllable was enunciated clearly in Queen's English.

Ned, who had faded out from the scene ever since rescuing the irascible May out of the ground slipped back into view.

"There has been a slight mishap involving gardening tools trying to make a mountain for a small mole, Maam." He intoned with a slight quirk on his lips.

"Oh!" Mrs Bennett gave a small Oh-let. "That is not Acceptable, Darcy."

The greek chorus decided it was high time to disband and fragmented into mob-capped maids surreptitiously siddling away. The twins inched off while April quickly dumped the creature at the crux of this issue into Ned's arms and exited with "I'll leave in your capable hands" leaving only May on the scene, whose towels had started harden like plaster, making it hard for her to inconspicuously leave.

"We are having a garden party here in two days time to celebrate for July and August's eleventh birthday. Can you get it sorted?"

"It shall be done, maam." Darcy ensured her. Mrs Bennett nodded her head approvingly at this surprisingly efficient man. She picked her notebook and turned to leave. There was an invisible thread pulling her back, however.

"Young miss" she looked disapprovingly at May "I do not like your fashion."

And she sailed off, like a ship with full sails unfurled, leaving a semi-dressed butler and splotchy ghost behind.

"Here" Ned said, surprised at the gentleness in his voice "Let me help with the towels."

He made a move to pry apart the towels but the feral creature fended him off.

"I can do it myself." May bit out.

"Fine." He hid a small smirk from her (after all, Butlers do not _smirk_) and left her to her cottonly prison. He strode off, collected his discarded coat and donned his hat to the tune of a disgusted growl.

It was a hectic day mobilizing an army of surplus gardeners to redo the area damaged by the twins and to coordinate with the kitchens about the foodstuffs to be ordered for the party. Fifty five guests were invited and enough entertainment had to be provided accordingly. Ned found out since a sizeable hole was already in place in the garden, he decided it should at least be put to use before covering it up. He quickly ran the idea through Mrs Bennett, who gave a trail of delighted screamlets, and the hole was pumped and lined in a light blue plastic, transforming it into a small, deep pool full of fishable guppies.

In the midst of it all, he still hadn't finished inventorizing the socks. He flopped down on the carpet and tiredly propped up his hand held.

That was when he heard a slight sniffling from behind the sofa.

"Hello?" he called out softly. The sniffles ceased and a moment later, a large pair of green eyes framed with dew decked eye lashes materialized.

Recognising it was Miss June, Ned slowly approached her.

"Are you alright Miss?" he asked, continuing to project his voice softly.

"I think I am alright, but Fluffy isn't." June said, hiccupping.

"Fluffy?" Ned inquired. Another pet?

"My pet cactus." June elaborated and produced a small lump which was more brown than green. It looked very _not_ alright. "I told Mum but she said it was stupid bringing a pet cactus to a vet."

Mrs Bennett did have a point there – a cactus, despite its superior photosynthesizing capabilities, was after all a plant.

"May I?" June assented and Ned held the small pot up for inspection. Although the cactus was brown, the part that was near the gravel was still green.

"How often have you watering it?" A Land Economy education did wonders for your general knowledge.

"A teaspoon once every two months?" June answered, a bit startled.

Ned allowed a small smile to come onto his face.

"Well, we might have hope for your green charge yet, Miss June. I think it may just be a very severe case of dehydration. I think that for now, a tablespoon of water immediately is required, three times a day. After a couple of days, see the symptoms. If it gets better, decrease the water intake and invest in a sprayer and make sure you spray it every day."

June's luminous eyes were shining with hope by the end of Ned's small lecture. She immediately rushed, presumably to the nearest tap, but not before giving Ned a shy hug of thanks.

It was nice, Ned decided when he sank into the sofa and yet again started on the socks, to slip off from the butler box and act like a proper human being. Maybe he should start relaxing this role slightly, maybe he could see April on a day off-

"Darrrrrrrcy!"

_Oh not again_

The twins were back. This time they were looking quite stricken.

"You need to help us immediately! Mrs Marple is ordering Tom to execute lobsters!"

Before he knew it, he was following the twins yet again, this time to the kitchens. It seemed that the party in a day's time was to be a grand affair. Mrs Bennett was probably bent on outdoing herself and impressing friends in her new abode; the lobsters were undoubtedly part of the plan.

Nevertheless killing lobsters under the same roof as young children was unnecessary violence. Why could they not snuff the creatures at the aquatic equivalent to an abattoir?

"Stop!" he commanded fiercely as two cooks wrestled over a particularly fine specimen of the lobster. One had a meat cleaver poised up in the air and was about to guillotine it.

He quickly grabbed a bucket and pushed the lobster into it. Mrs Marple ran over to see what fuss had manifested in her domain, looking accusingly at the twins before noticing Ned and the bucket.

"Wha' ya' doin' here' Mr Darcy?" She asked, none too please. "I have a lot of orders ta' be made you know."

"Sorry, but could we please have this lobster? It doesn't do to have children witness the murder of their food."

Mrs Marple suddenly understood the Mr Darcy's intent. Her mood softened – why, the last marquis only cared for the impeccable taste of his food, not particularly so much the means it took to prepare such a meal. The old butler had also accordingly turned a blind eye. Regretfully the object in question had sat first-class and air flown from the US in order to arrive, alive, before the meal.

"This critter costs half a grand." Mrs Marple stated apologetically. "Tha' mistress won't be too pleased if it went missin'."

"I'll reimburse the cost of this lobster with my salary." Ned replied handing the bucket to one of the twins. "You can use this amount to procure truffles instead or something of vegetarian roots."

Mrs Marple nodded, and whip cracked orders to the rest of her crew.

Ned turned to face the twins.

"Now, I will be looking after Diglet for you, so will you help me look after Lobby?"

He asked, not as a butler, but as a brother in need of a favour.

The twins understood and nodded.

"Very well, I shall ask Mr Bennett for permission on the purchase of a new aquatic tank this evening. Meanwhile, to keep Lobby comfortable, I strongly suggest you bath him in a solution of salt water."

Ned did not need _A History of Fish _to fall asleep later that evening.

**A/N: This chapter is longer than the previous ones. I had to pack so didn't have time to re-read. May Bennett seems a bit of a sour puss doesn't she? Don't worry her pH readings will increase gradually once she gets to Cambridge. (The chapter after the next). Please review, either on here on PM - it takes less than a minute but will make my day! I know there are loads of you out there, but are hiding under the woodwork somewhere...**

**-Land economy - Even in Cambridge, no one really knows what people ****_do _****study in this course! It has been around for a long time though; it was used as a dummy subject in the 19th/20th century for rich folks to get dumb sons in...**


	6. A Party in the Garden

**_Dear Mr Baines,_**

**_Fortunately none of the animals mentioned previously were harmed in the process of writing this letter. However, they are happily playing near the new fish pond, courtesy of the Bennett twins. _**

**_There is a matter of some importance I wish to ask you, however. How do I assuage a woman's hatred? Miss May Bennett seem to have taken a most singularly dislike to myself. _**

**_Yours,_**

**_Ned Darcy_**

**_Dear Ned,_**

**_Are you sure you haven't offended the lady in some way? Perhaps taking rivaling affections from a mutual someone? (Not that I am suggesting your gender preferences are in the other direction)._**

**_Actually, I am not running a relationship consultancy. Go and find someone else for more advice. _**

**_Yours,_**

**_Mr Baines_**

"Welcome Mr and Mrs Collings and family, the Garden Party is at the back. Please take this map and Majorie will accompany you there."

"Welcome Miss Lucas, the Garden Party is at the back. Please take this map, kindly supplied by a Mr. Cashflow, and Tom will accompany you there."

"Welcome Mr and Mrs Gardies, the Garden Party is the back. Please take this nap-sorry sir, I meant map. Betsy will accompany you."

He had been standing there for the past half an hour by the grand front door. Mrs Bennett had decided this was the best way to showcase her husband's newfound affluence. Guests were never known for being punctual and so Ned was still waiting for the last few stragglers to come by.

"Mr Darcy, do ya' wan' me to take ova'?" Mrs Marple had come out of the kitchens and had dressed in some smart clothing.

"That'll be great." Ned smiled gratefully. An unlikely bond had formed between the pair, causing Ned to relax slightly around the kindly woman.

Ned had promised June to take Fluffy out of her room and sun it near the garden where the party was being held. Now that guests were arriving in great flocks, he should remove the cactus from harm's way, lest it fall prey to unwary feet.

He hurried there now and was relieved to see the cactus still resting on one of the tables further away from the action. It was losing the brown necrotic patches, like shedding off bits of old skin.

"Ah! What is this most interesting plant doing here?" A voice rang out. Evidently, there was some herd psychology at work here for moments later, a crowd of hatted fellows descended on the table.

At the forefront of the flock was a tiny old lady wearing a wide brimmed ecru hat. She was peering excitedly at Fluffy, as if it was like a rare Indian diamond.

"Why, look at this cactus! How very exciting! Peyote. Native to the Americas." She exclaimed. Ned observed that the crowd tittered _ooohs _and _ahhhs _but each had a slightly glazed look, like the expression of a confused sheep.

"What's so interesting about a sand dollar?" Another man asked, distastefully. The flock exclaimed another _oooh _of faux understanding.

"No, it's not a sand dollar! A Peyote contains psychoactive alkaloid, namely mescaline. Things that were popular when I was a girl" The lady said, almost with a dream-like quality to her voice. Though she was dressed very conservatively, like much of the over 70s middle class population of Britain, for all of Ned knew, she could've been a raving hippie in her spryer days.

"Mrs Bennett, you must host very exciting parties, then." The lady continued, smiling at the woman in question, who today, was outfitted in a pale pink summer dress. She smiled, then changed her mind and frowned, as if she finally processed the implications of her hosting stoning sessions.

"Well…" Mrs Bennett hedged, "I think Daniel dearest bought it as a present for our June's birthday."

That probably made matters worse. The old lady looked like she wanted to say something of an embarrassing nature to -

"-It's called Fluffy" Ned hastily interjected. "Miss Bennett was sunning it and she would like to see it safely restored to her bedroom."

He plucked the now famous prickly plant from glazed gazes and disappeared back into the manor.

##

A/N: Sorry for the long wait and the not-so-exciting chapter! I was going to finish writing this chapter but got carried away with my project (about algae!) Cambridge is termed a pressure cooker for a reason. I'll post more as soon as I get time.

Also, if anyone's interested, Trinity recently installed its new master. The whole ceremony is filmed (around 30 mins and the first bit is quite amusing.) multimedia/youtube/


	7. A matter of Naming legacies

**_Continuing on...with May_**

Meanwhile, May was forced into an orange sun dress decorated with small bows that probably belonged to some old fashioned Barbie doll. She hated meeting most of her relatives and her mum's sycophantic friends and their pointless small talk. Ironically none of August's and July's friends were invited – May was almost sure four little hellions running around were still better than the Collings.

Presently she saw June standing alone, looking at a box hedge bonsai and so May walked over to link arms with her.

"Ah! There you are, come over May, dear." Squigella had espied her daughter and tried to summon her posthaste. Around her clustered the Collings, who had emigrated to South Africa years prior.

Squigella had two sisters: Gisella and Prigella, both who were older than than her. Prigella Collings was her senior by twenty years, though debatable when one considered her worldly wisdom.

Prigella was eying beadily at her.

"Oh! Sister dear, meet your niece, May. She's my second oldest. And June, my middle child. April is my eldest– oooh! April dear, come over!"

A lovely April decked in spring green floated to the burgeoning circle. Several of the Collings turned their beady eyes towards her instead.

"April here is going to study rocks at Oxford and May is entering Cambridge to study Natural Sciences!" Squigella proudly extolled her daughters' achievements. Sadly this grand proclamation received nothing more than a cursory incline of Prigella's neck as her attention had fixated on another point in the space-time continuum.

"Hmm, I see you've chosen months as your theme. Rather bland, as far as names go."

"Better than our mother with her –ella fixation." Squigella retorted.

"What's wrong with naming a child with a plain Ella?" April asked interestedly.

"Too bland." Both women answered together.

June piped up "I think Aunt Prigella is right." May elbowed her. Siding with a Collings! A Bennett ought to have more sense than that.

June ignored the physical ribbing May inflicted. "Months are so overdone. Just look at the Canterbury Tales. Old January and young April! It would've been better if you named us after the days of the week." She paused, then continued in a fragile lightness "If you named us after weekdays, I would've really been Wednesday's child."

There was an awkward silence, the one that even an ill-placed farting cushion cannot alleviate and May regretted elbowing her sister. June had seemed like a lively girl before May went on her gap year that May worried about her sister turning emo. She settled on giving a supporting squeeze on her shoulder instead.

It was Squigella in the end that broke the peace. She repeated her earlier statement.

"Well! April here is going off to Brasenose college at Oxford to do her phd in rocks! And May is going to science at St John's College at Cambridge"

Mrs Bennett re-enacted the proud beam at the two of them again, while June slipped off again, probably to tend her cactus.

May knew that mum wanted to brag the two of them in front of the Collings, who had refined the art of condescension to a family pastime.

"Ah! Then you must meet my daughters. India, Australia and Somalia." She clapped her hands and three Collings of the female persuasion unblended from the rather homogenous crowd.

"Namaste"

"G'day"

"Assaalmu Alaykum"

"Uhh, hi?" May replied in plain English.

"Oh! And that is not all that they do." Aunt Prigella said with a condescending smile.

"Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill. Buddha." Intoned India.

The dratted butler, Darcy chose that moment to materialize beside mum. He drew her away from gathering and into the drawing room, which had its garden-facing doors wide open to receive the summery rays of sun. He was inquiring something about lobsters, or the lack of one.

"I'm afraid we will be serving cream of Truffle soup instead of the lobster bisque maam. The crustacean had escaped from its watery prison."

A quick succession of "What!" in a bad accent polluted the room and leaked into the garden.

"May, we live really near to Cambridge! Congratulations! It would be lovely to have you over sometimes" Aunt Gisella said warmingly and clasped her hands. The voices in the next room, which had escalated in volume were blissfully ignored by Aunt G.

All three of Collings faux-triplets, however, ignored this exchange (for it did not concern them) rotated their overly long necks to look at his impeccable profile. His impeccable-ness had stiffly escorted Mum back to the circle and was welcomed back accordingly.

"The bigger the hat, the smaller the property. Australian proverb." Australia commented, smiling.

Squigella stifled a giggle, as if she found a hidden, naughty meaning.

Darcy wore a hat. It was bigger than a pizza. Undoubtedly, cousin Australia was quoting it because of that tricorne that always sat on his head, giving him a rakish air, in contrast to his prim and proper appearance.

Darcy turned around to face the trio and said gravely "True in most sense of the proverb except in the intellectual area, maam."

"A man throws stones not words. Somali proverb." Somalia countered.

"Not on my count maam. It goes against my principle of no physical violence on women, no matter how trying she is."

Somehow, May felt the words directed at her. She felt annoyed. What right had he?!

"A dog is not considered a good dog because he is a good barker. A man is not considered a good man because he is a good talker. Indian proverb." India jested.

Aha! Finally some sense from the Collings, one she –

"-Totally agreed."

May accidentally uttered the last bit out loud, much to her chagrin. There was another uncomfortable silence, which subsequently became a pregnant pause, which gave birth to little ones during the loud silence.

Darcy raised an eyebrow and coolly replied "I bow to my superior's wisdom." If one looked at his grey eyes carefully, they could see them dancing with ironic humor as he did a zipping motion across his mouth.

May didn't though - she was too busy wondering what could make a man so submissive-like yet so proud, and perhaps most importantly, why did she take such a dislike to an otherwise insignificant man.

**A/N: This was the second half of the chapter which I didn't manage to complete in time - it feels like something is off for this chapter, but there you go. (here you go, Whosepride ;)) **

**-And Bonbonnett, Algernon is actually a name I had in my List Of Names. He shall be an appearance soon! **

**Next chapter, Cambridge! **


	8. An Involvement of Kinky Characters

**A/N: Hi all! Sorry- been terribly busy with uni. I've had problems with contamination in my lab. In any case, I've posted up the first part of this chapter, the bit of it in Cambridge with follow soon. I just haven't quite perfected the part that involves pheasants, and maybe peasants in it yet. Thank you to all of those who reviewed! You guys keep me going! :) **

* * *

**_Dear Mr Baines,_**

**_How appropriate is it for a Butler to help out with the homework of one of his charges? Miss July Bennett was asking me to help her create a poster of the human reproductive cycle. _**

**_On the other hand, Miss May Bennett has been shipped off to Cambridge. I shall have to escort her on the 30_****_th_****_ of September. _**

**_Yours,_**

**_Ned Darcy_**

**_Dear Ned,_**

**_Stop mollycoddling the children. You look terrible in a governess's outfit._**

**_Yours,_**

**_Mr Baines_**

* * *

"Darcy! Mrs Reinhardtii is evil. Can you slip Fluffy in her bed?" July cried one September evening. One of her pigtails had come undone as a result of thirty seconds of intense bodily agitation. A sheet of paper – no doubt the source of all her worldly problems – was becoming increasing crinkled.

"Fluffy will not decrease the amount of evilness stored in Mrs Reinhardtii. I'm afraid your homework is your only salvation."

Ned replied, his posture and face appearing unflappable. Mrs Reinhardtii had recently replaced the less recent replacement of Madame Antoinette, a Miss Morriss. She was the twins' third tutor (though the mistress insisted on labeling them 'Governess') in the short time Ned had worked here. Mrs Bennett believed Eton and Cheltenham to be too hyped up, and entrusted the education of her children to exclusive persons of dubiously claimed qualifications. Mrs Reinhardtii is an Oxford Alumni, and so were her two predecessors.

"Why do I need to learn about the reproductive cycle? It's so boring! Who wants to make babies?" July carried on, complaining.

"Yea! Everyone knows that storks deliver babies" August shipped in, giving Ned a cheeky wink.

"Actually, I've heard that there are more storks in countries with a high birthrate. So yes! Storks are so boring." July frowned thoughtfully.

"Correlation is not causation. First rule of biology." Ned said eyebrows furrowing. He spent much of his sixth form being indoctrinated in that rule by his teacher.

"April should know!" July responded "She knows Science."

Strictly speaking, a Geologist wasn't much of a step closer to biology than a Land Economist. Ned had to refrain to descend himself into a squabble with two eleven year olds, of which one who believed an owl was going to come swooping in with a Hogwarts letter at any moment. He missed the conversations held in his Cambridge days.

"What's this all about?" June had appeared on top of the staircase, a fat novel tucked under one of her arms.

"Darcy won't help me with my homework," July whined, giving sad puppy dog eyes at her older sister.

"Darcy is a butler," June dimpled at him "If you homework help, go and find whatever woman Mum had to scrounge to replace the previous five you scared away."

"Gosh, I feel like I've just entered the conversation of a bad period romance novel." May half jested as she by-passed June on the staircase. Her head swiveled on her neck, making a wide sweep on the scene before her, reminding Ned of an advanced CCTV camera in high-budgeted blockbuster movies.

Ever since that Scene at the pseudo birthday party for the twins, Ned felt himself regarded as general furniture by the second oldest of the Bennett children. At present, he felt the ugly Ming vase beside him was making more of an impression to Miss Bennett in her version of the time-space fabric.

He did feel slightly insulted, though he was relieved she had stopped openly picking on him. At present, unspoken tension started developing whenever they stepped round each other in the hallway, as if unknown repelling forces were at work.

May swept past them and wandered away, an electron breaking free of the orbit.

"Ugh, that evil cow of a woman? What sort of name is Reinhardtii in anycase?" July groaned, as if the momentary interruption never happened.

"Juneeeee – help me? You like plants. You should like biology too!"

June rolled her eyes, looking like a little professor. She placed her free hand on the banister and descended down the staircase.

"Show me the questions." She demanded imperiously. She seemed back in her elements these days – Perhaps it was Fluffy re-teething itself, or whatever terminology one used for the restoration's of a cactus's spikes.

* * *

Half an hour later, Ned checked up on them again, just in case. He stood in the shadows of one of the hallways discreetly eavesdropped on the conversation, and was relieved to hear that the education being pumped into the twins have moved on from the fundamental genesis to –

"- August it's Kingdom-Phylum-Class-Order-Family-Genus-Species. What, you can't remember it? Well, I always use this mnemonic! Say it after me:

Kinky-Pants-Can-Often-Fit-Gay-Soldiers."

Ned froze. He did not expect that of demure, bookish June. He paused, and narrowed his gaze on the fat novel by her side, and exhaled, relieved.

It was 'Twilight'. That might have explained the terminology. At least it wasn't Fifty-shades of Grey. That would've been worrying.

There was a raucous burst of laughter in front of him, that someone undoubtedly amused by the droll mnemonic. May. She appeared to have forgotten that he was standing in her way, her green eyes twinkled with mirth and genuine dimples adorning her face – looking very much like April for an instance.

She started to move, her countenance coming closer and closer and – and for a moment, Ned forgot all of his Butler techniques and stood silent, still, solid.

He could count the stray black hairs swept untidily over the raven brows, the dark eyelashes framing those –

"OW!"

And for a moment, the two repelling forces dissipated and warm bodies collided – and did not rebound, did not reflect, immediately.


End file.
